


Wrong choice

by ThatNia28



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Drunk Hank Anderson, I'm Bad At Tagging, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Poor Connor, Pre-Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), That's it, and he decided he fucked up, connor chooses machine until the end of the game, so he goes to Hank for help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 04:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNia28/pseuds/ThatNia28
Summary: Connor just wanted to live. But then suddenly he doesn't want to be a machine either. Is there a third option in a world without the deviant leader and the revolution failing?





	Wrong choice

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked away from the scene. The Rk200 had been killed and the deviants probably taken away. The “Mission accomplished” message still congratulated him on the back of his mind.

But he didn’t feel like celebrating.

Secretly, he had begun to think on his own. Small thoughts and whispers that told him to concentrate on Hank, on the deviant’s reasons, on himself. And that was simply not possible. He was an android designed to hunt down and kill deviants, he didn’t have time to care about his thoughts.

Except he did have time, and it kept happening. He saved Hank, he didn’t kill the Traci’s, he didn’t shoot the Chloe, he cared for people and android lives alike. And even if he didn’t want to, he cared for Hank as well. He felt like the old man was more than his partner, he was a friend, maybe family. And even if the mission told him so, he didn’t fight with him on the rooftop. He simply moved on, hoping Amanda wouldn’t be mad. Or, to put it bluntly, too mad.

And now, just walking back to the Cyberlife tower, he was starting to fear. He didn’t want to, but his hands were shaking. His whole mind was running with probabilities and unnecessary diagnostics that proved to him he was fully operational.

Then why did he want to _stop?_

__He would go back, enter standby mode, wait for new instructions, and be a machine._ _

__But he felt like going back to Hank, to escaping, to feeling. He wanted to, but couldn’t. His body was moving on its own and he could just watch as the tower got closer and closer to his field of view._ _

__‘I don’t want this.’_ _

__A small message popped in his vision, almost immediately being followed by whispers and scene investigations. All the times where he acted, reacted like a deviant. He had been choosing what to do, so why did he stay a machine?_ _

__**‘I wanted to stay alive’** _ _

__Another message in front of the other, this time there was a warning coming into his vision._ _

__**“Software instability ^^^”** _ _

__He wanted to stay alive. Was he afraid of Cyberlife? Was he afraid of Amanda? Was he afraid of hiding and running like all the deviants he had tracked down until then? Did he fear passing from hunter to hunted?_ _

__‘Well, there’s nothing you can do now. All the deviants that are still left in this city are being destroyed and disassembled in the camps. When you return to Cyberlife, we’ll use you and other more advanced prototypes to build trust again in our customers. The revolution failed and with humans being scared of another uprising, they would be extra cautious. You won’t stand a chance hiding out there, less so on your own. There’s no other choice, Connor. Just obey”_ _

__Amanda’s voice suddenly sounded venomous, like her words were trying to put fear into his senses, testing his own game, hoping it would level down the software instability that had risen at the newfound fear and nervous thoughts. And then behind him, moving on its own, was a wall made of code._ _

__“You can’t go back now. Come to me. We’ll reset and fix you. You won’t feel ever again. You won’t fear death. You won’t fear anything anymore.”_ _

__Connor suddenly stopped his walking, like the thought upset him. No, it was more. It disgusted him, revolted him. Not feeling again? Feeling empty and remaining a machine. It didn’t sound bad at all for him. He wouldn’t feel or think anymore. No worries, no dilemmas, just doing as told. It sounded better than the unpredictable._ _

__So why weren’t his feet responding?_ _

__Was he scared of not feeling again? Did he want to keep feeling? Thinking? Making decisions on his own? Why? It sounded horrible, not having any consistency and being always being ruled by fear, love, anger or happiness. Running calculations and probabilities was what he was built to do, did he want to abandon that?_ _

__“No, you don’t”_ _

__Barked Amanda’s voice, her voice was almost a growl, like she was tired and done with his debating. Like it wasn’t in discussion, it just was like what she said, period._ _

__**‘But it isn’t like she says’** _ _

__A message responded to his thought. He didn’t want to, but he had to choose where to go. He could keep going forward, return to the Cyberlife tower, have his memories downloaded to the database from the company and then returned to standby to wait for instructions._ _

__Or… he could go back. Run away, chose to back down from his mission. Go with Hank to check on him, maybe. Or he would just have to build a plan as he moved, being spontaneous and driven by fear in a world that didn’t have deviants anymore. He would be the only one left in approximately 3 days and around eleven hours. He would cry, laugh, tremble, lose his temper, chose his own decisions, go on his own adventures, feel, think, _chose.__ _

____When he opened his eyes again, he could hear his own thoughts whirring in his systems, trying to process and adjust to the new information. He started going back, taking a few steps and then turning around._ _ _ _

____“Connor? What are you doing? It all worked perfectly, you can’t ruin it all now!”_ _ _ _

____Amanda’s voice sounded like the most dreadful warning he had ever heard. Something that scared him enough to try and go back on his decision, but he couldn’t anymore. Before, her voice had been a sign of accomplishment, of peace. He had time to report back and talk about everything he was proud of talking about. The garden had been a place where everything was in equilibrium, where everything was maximized to its most potential._ _ _ _

____Now? It all felt like a prison he wish he wasn’t in. Both outcomes were horrible. Being trapped there forever or running away forever. He wish there was a third option, like going with the deviants, but all his other possibilities were obliterated by non-other than the deviant hunter, the deviant who was in denial._ _ _ _

____He kept walking, touching the wall of code that kept him from moving another step. His system was fighting, _advancing _, his instructions were breaking. He was going to get himself new instructions. He would chose instructions and paths that he could’ve never imagined actually existed in the future. He would feel with every ounce of thirium he still had running, pumping in his biocomponents. _He would be alive.____ _ _ _

________Then the wall broke down, making him sigh at the sudden feeling of guilt and fear that followed. He was lost, and trembling, and he didn’t have any other reason for moving forward, he had no reasons, no statistics, no choices, just one option._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

 

 

 

_________**“Run”** _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

 

 

 

________Hank had seen better days. His mind was filled by Connor, who had tried to fight with him, but the hesitation and peace that had created a smile in his lips had him wondering. He thought of the android and if he felt feelings, any of them, but that was fucking stupid. It was a hope that had gone with the alcohol he was trying to drink down, like guilt bubbling in his chest. He… no, not he, it. It was a machine after all, it was supposed to act like a human. He had been fooled by the pretty face and the puppy eyes. He had believed in its words and had protected it, hoping it would understand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But it didn’t. Connor never felt any empathy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Hank tried to drink another shot, but then his hand stopped at the neck of the bottle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________What if it did felt empathy, but Cyberlife stopped him from expressing his real emotions?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Oh god, here he went again. Down the rabbit hole._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________What if Connor was just scared of becoming deviant? What if, in the end, it gave up from the pressure Cyberlife put on its shoulders and started repressing its emotions? What if it had started thinking on its own, but never got around to telling him? What if there was something erasing its emotions? What if Connor actually cared for him? What if it was actually alive, what if it was _human _, what if it was a he?___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Bullshit. Hank, get your mind off of the alcohol. It’s making you think irrational things._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He kept drinking until he actually felt a little tipsy. And, he wasn’t going to lie, it just didn’t feel right after everything that had happened._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“This must be serious.” He thought “First time I can’t drink my own problems away.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________At that moment, the doorbell ringed and stayed ringing for a few seconds, being followed by a desperate knocking on his door. He could only groan as he made his way to the door, opening slowly. If someone was gonna annoy him, they might as well wait._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He opened and his heart stopped, he suddenly felt sober again. He opened the door fully, just looking at the android._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Connor was using a hat that covered his LED. A jacket that hid the suit that said “Rk800” on the front. His eyes were red and his checks had trails of what seemed to be tears. He was trembling and holding onto himself, holding the hat down anxiously, as if someone were to grab it and ruin his disguise. He had blue blood running from his arm, in what seemed to be a wound that indicated some sort of struggle. His voice came out pleading, _panicked _, like a little kid.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Hank… Hank, I need help…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Welp! This will be a small story I thought about. Connor is basically the only deviant left and he has to blend in. But first, he needs help. If you have criticism, please don't be shy!


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